Chapter 45
He carried the tray out onto the porch, and made it down the steps without faceplanting. He took it straight to Momzilla, who was waving her arms at Kat. She accepted the wine as her fair due, but was not at all appeased. She was much more difficult than Nick to placate, it seemed. Of course, he couldn’t promise Momzilla a blowjob, so maybe that had something to do with it.
Scooter came out wearing a button-down shirt, his hair slicked back. He stopped, spoke in rapid Ukrainian to Kat, who paled and ran back into the dining room. He didn’t look at Andy, though that was probably not anything to do with Andy and more to do with the way Momzilla had started in on Scooter before he’d finished talking to Kat. Scooter wasn’t going to have much more luck with her than anyone else. Some people just preferred to be unhappy; Andy was well-acquainted with that type.
Sophia, on the other hand, was sitting with her fiancé and watching the tide roll in as the stars came out over the Atlantic. Timothy was an attractive young man, thin, but elegant, in a wheelchair, and he was patting Sophia’s hand as they talked. “Is anyone hurt?” Timothy asked, as Andy came over to give Sophia her water.
“No, thank you,” Andy said. “We’ve just got a mess to clean up in the kitchen. But that’s not so unusual, for kitchens.” He tried a smile, though he couldn’t help glancing back toward Scooter and Momzilla. Scooter’s shoulders were getting tighter and tighter. That wasn’t good.
“I’m gratified to hear it,” Timothy said. “We used to vacation here when I was a child. Before…” he waved a hand at his useless legs. “Someone being hurt would feel like an ill omen. As it is, I am assured that the worst events at the wedding become the best stories later. I am marrying the love of my life, to be together for the rest of my life.” He smiled up at Sophia. “I think we can use a few good stories for later.”
Andy might have been bitter about them thinking of what was certainly going to be bad news for the restaurant as merely a story, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to it. The fire hadn’t been their fault; they shouldn’t have to feel guilty over it. Andy watched the couple smiling at each other, largely unperturbed by the chaos of their families and obviously deeply in love. Would he ever have something so pure and unshakeable? His heart ached with wanting.
Momzilla stormed up then, ruining the moment. “Come on, Sophia, we’re leaving,” she snapped, grabbing her daughter’s wrist and trying to drag her away.
Sophia planted her feet and tugged. “Mom!” She got behind Timothy’s chair and turned him, the wheels not getting good traction in the sand. “Sorry,” she mouthed at Andy.
“We’re spending our honeymoon here,” Timothy added, as they got back onto the pavement. “Perhaps if your kitchen problems are solved before we go, we’ll see you again.”
Cars were already pulling out by the time Andy got back to Dockside. Scooter had a smile on his face that was so fake it hurt.
It was almost a relief when the last car pulled away and that awful smile dropped away. Andy took a breath, bracing himself. “How bad?”
Scooter’s voice was absolutely flat. “Full refund, save the deposit. We get to keep two hundred dollars. The stove’s ruined. The grill plate cracked. Jason’s got an oil burn up his arm; Kat’s taking him to the ER now. And we’re out three thousand dollars on top of making no money from other custom tonight. And we’ll be closed for at least the weekend to get the smell out and replace the oven. Probably looking at almost ten grand net loss. And that’s if the health inspector doesn’t come down and bust me on some safety concern.”
It was staggering; for several long seconds, Andy couldn’t even breathe
Scooter shrugged, trying really hard for diffidence. He was missing the mark, but Andy didn’t know what to do about that. “I have insurance. Ma always stressed that, insurance above everything else. Above the electric. Above eating, keep the insurance paid up. So that’ll cover some of the damages. But it doesn’t cover the lost profit.” Scooter opened his mouth as if he were going to say something else, then shut it, shuddered, strode back toward his place. He got all the way to the door before he broke.
Scooter yelled, furious and helpless, and slammed his fist so hard into the wall that Andy flinched. The entire building seemed to shake from the impact. Scooter stood there, staring at the wall.Blood dripped down his fingers onto the porch, before he finally walked away, leaving Andy alone on the sand. 19
The insurance check was a beautiful thing and if Chester Davis hadn’t been eighty-five, Scooter might have kissed the postmaster. It covered a little more than half the damages (after the deductible came out) and would ensure that Scooter didn’t have to buy a new oven on credit. Interest rates were stupidly high, and while he could take out an equity loan against Dockside if he had to, that put the restaurant too close to the bank’s hands for comfort. There were always box-places making offers on the land or the building.